Child Christine POV: The Phantom of The Opera
by SerenityW
Summary: This starts with Christine's arrival at the Opera House and then onward. This story tells her experiences while growing up. CHAPTER 3 NOW UP :
1. Inspiration On The Way

THIS STORY IS PURELY FAN-MADE AND IS IN NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH THE MUSICAL ARTIST OR ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY

The Untold Story of The Phantom of The Opera: Christine's POV

Chapter 1

The carriage rocked and clip clopped down the cobblestone pavement of Paris. Christine peered out of the carriage window and glared at the gray clouds that blocked out the sun. Usually on days like these, she and her father would sing a duet about her, Little Lotte, who enjoyed the spring time and would stomp in the puddles of rain and ask for the sun to shine again.

Her father…

Now the gray ominous clouds were blurry behind instant tears that sprang to her eyes. Her father was long gone and she was handed from person to person like a doll until a very stern middle aged woman declared her claim on her. And now she rode in a carriage with this woman who told her she was traveling to a new place to live since no one would live in her old house by the sea.

This was all too much to bear. Christine felt a heavy lump in her throat and the tide of tears was about to come rushing out. It didn't matter if this woman was a stranger – she needed comfort, where it came from, she had no idea. She leaned into the woman's bosom and sobbed softly.

"There, there." The woman said gently and put an arm around Christine's shoulders.

"I miss Papa, Madame Giry." She said through thick tears.

"I know, dear, I know," Madame Giry said softly and rocked Christine back and forth stroking her long brown hair in the process.

"You must know that the Lord will guide his soul to heaven. Your father's spirit is safe among the angels. Do not fret, dearest." She said in hushed whispers.

Christine sniffled and swallowed her next batch of tears. She wiped her eyes and smiled up at Madame Giry.

"Yes, I know he is. He told me I would be protected by an angel of music. He is protected and so am I! Oh, I miss him…" She murmured.

Madame Giry stared at Christine for a second then pushed Christine's head against her shoulder.

"Your father loved you very much, dear. If that is what he told you, then I believe it," She stared out the window as the carriage traveled onto a forest road.

"We are a little ways away, dear. And you've had a rough morning. Please rest against me."

Christine, overcome with confusion, sorrow, and exhaustion, obliged without complaint and closed her eyes. Within minutes, she was asleep.


	2. Arrival

Chapter 2

"…passed away. I was told to bring her here to live. May she stay here?"

"I see…Yes, of course she may. She could sleep in the room next to your dressing room. I do believe that room is available?"

"Oh yes. In fact it is. Only my relatives used to stay there during Christmas."

"Wonderful. Now if Monsieur Vamichon can help me get her luggage."

"Oh yes. By the way, I don't see the child. Is she all right?"

Without opening her eyes, Christine could tell Madame Giry had lowered her voice a little.

"Yes, but as you know, she's has just gone through a very tragic event. She is sleeping."

"Aaaah, she's a belle,"

"I can imagine how much this has impacted her. And only seven summers old, you say? Tut tut. Well, I'll get Monsieur Vamichon on your luggage right away."

Christine heard a few shuffles then Madame Giry's face appears in the carriage doorway.

"Are you awake, dear?"

"Yes, Madame." Christine murmured and rubbed her eyes.

"Good. If you would so kindly as to get out of the carriage and…"

Madame Giry took Christine's gloved hand and helped her out of the carriage. Christine, for the first time, stared up at the enormous richly sculpted building.

"Where am I?" She asked in a faint whisper.

Madame Giry smiled down at her and replied "This is the Paris Opera Popullaire. Welcome to your new home."

Christine stared open mouthed at the majestic looking building.

"I am going to live _here_? In an Opera House?"

Madame Giry chuckled. "Yes, dear. The ballet girls live here, as well. Monsieur Lefevre has been very gracious towards you today and here on. I will show you the room where you shall be saying."

Christine held Madame Giry's hand as she opened the big doors to the Opera Popullaire. She was led through countless hallways filled with rehearsals of singing, dancing, acting, and monologues. She was given curious stares as she gawked wide eyed and tried to take in all the sights and dazzling colors around her.

A thin woman with a great load of makeup on her face approached her and Madame Giry.

"Who ees thees bambina?! An audience patron with a VIP?" The makeup woman screeched.

"No, Carolotta. She has come to live here. Her father has just passed away and no one occupies her old house." Madame Giry quietly explained and Christine felt Madame Giry's fingers stroke her own as if in comfort.

"Hmph! Shee beeeterr not interfere with my siiiingiiing! I cannot have leettle bambinis scurrying around this place like mice!" Carlotta snorted and stomped her foot.

"She will not. I will make sure of it." Madame Giry said calmly.

"I want to see to zat! I was not informed by Senor Lefevre that the Paris Populaire was an orphanage as well as an Opera house!" Carolotta sniffed.

Madame Giry narrowed her eyes and spoke in voice filled with finality.

"Better here than a cold and lonely orphanage, Carlotta! It's either here or the orphanage in Lyon that is much underpaid. I want to trust that she will be welcomed here. Can you do that for me, mademoiselle?"

"Of course, I can do zat! Do not speak to me like I am bambino myself!"Carlotta scowled and extended her heavily perfumed hand toward Christine's nose.

"My warmest welcome to Paris I give you, bambina. And a small warning not to interfere with my siiingiing. Are we clear on zat?"Carolotta murmured.

Christine detected no warmth in this lady, Carlotta's, voice but nodded politely. Before she caught speak a reply Madame Giry tightened her grip on Christine's hand stepped in front of her.

"That is enough, Carolotta! I bring this girl with the full permission of your _employer,_ may I add, Monsieur Lefevre. If you have a problem with her living here, take it up with him. As for now, I trust, he will not waver in his judgment on her since she has done no harm –"

"No harm as of yet! Shee wiilll soon succeed me, I bet!" Carlotta broke her off and hurried away mumbling under her breath.

Christine looked up to Madame Giry's face as Madame Giry breathed in and out slowly. She then turned to Christine.

"A word of advice, dear…That woman you have just seen is a good performer but with a personality like a bee sting. Best if you avoid her. Now," She sighed and quickly remained her composure.

She led Christine to a small dressing room with mirrors, cushioned seats and photographs. Then Madame Giry opened a door that led to a bedroom. On the wall was a painting of a colonel on a horse.

"Hmm. This room is a bit dustier than I remember. Well, of course it is! The last time anyone was in here was at Christmas time. The maids will have to tidy it up a bit. But till then, please unpack." Madame Giry said.

Christine fingered the lace curtains and slowly sat on the mattress.

Christmas…

Christmastime was not too far off. Just the mere name brought shards of pain unwillingly into her heart.

"Madame Giry…" Christine murmured.

"Yes, my dear?"

"This…this is going to my f-first Christmas without…without…"

She couldn't go on. Her lip trembled and she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

"Oh, my dear," Madame Giry sat on the mattress next to her and rocked Christine back and forth.

"Forgive me for saying that. I will do everything I can to make sure your Christmas's here are filled with much joy. He would want you to be merry on the day Christ was born."

Christine lifted her tear stained face off Madame Giry's neck.

"T-thank you, Madam. Yes…he would have wanted that. I will try. I will try. I will." She sighed.

Madame Giry lifted Christine's chin up.

"That is good. Bravery faced in the unknown will surpass all. And you can trust me to be here for you. I want you to know that. All right?" She softly asked.

Christine wiped an oncoming tear and smiled.

"That is better. Now what do you say we unpack your belongings and go to supper?"

"That would be wonderful, Madame Giry. Thank you." Christine smiled brightly and walked over to the nearest suitcase.

*******************************************************************************

She had changed out her traveling clothes and into party wear. Madame Giry told her that though to her and the rest of the girls, this was an ordinary supper; Christine was new and should seem like a guest to a party. Christine stared at the long row of young women seated along the tables. They were placing napkins in their laps and chatting vigorously. Some looked up at stared at Christine.

Madame Giry took Christine's hand and walked her over to a chair by the front door.

"You ought to eat with me tonight, dear. I will introduce you to Beginners Ballet Class D in the morning."

"Madame Giry, why is there no girl my age here? I feel quite out of place."Christine said quietly.

"Aaaah so you think! Let me introduce to you my daughter: Meg Giry."

A petite blond haired girl smiled at Christine in wonder and politeness.

"This is the girl whom you picked up today, Mother?"The girl Meg asked Madame Giry.

"Yes, she is, Meg. Now mind your manners!" Madame Giry tutted.

"Oh! It is a pleasure to meet you –"Meg broke off and extended her hand.

"Christine Daae. It is a pleasure to meet you, as well." Christine smiled and shook Meg's hand.

"Well, now, this is a good start. I hope you two can become good friends. I'm going to have a word with Monsieur Lefevre. He wanted to see how well you're settling in." Madame Giry said with a satisfied smile and walked off towards the main hallway.

"You don't need to explain much. My mother already told me. Did you really live in a house by the sea?" Meg asked with a smile.

"Yes, I did. It was really wonderful there. The gulls always woke me bright and early each morning – a little _too_ early, if you ask me, but their screeches are something I shall always remember." Christine replied.

"It does indeed sound wonderful. Were there any lighthouses?" Meg asked.

"Oh, yes! Plenty. If it's all right though, Meg, I'd rather not discuss it right now." Christine turned away and fondled with her fork.

Meg looked taken aback but her eyes held understanding.

"Oh. Sorry. Of course. I didn't mean to pry. It's just that when my mother told me about where you lived before you came here, I was very fascinated…" She trailed off as Christine wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Say! Look at that waiter standing over there! I know him quite personally, actually. Whenever he comes in with a tray of food, he trips!" She pointed to a mustached waiter with a large stomach.

"Really?" Christine smiled a little. She knew Meg was trying to change the subject.

"Sure! Watch. Soon the appetizer is going to come. It's a great wonder why Monsieur Lefevre hasn't fired him yet!" Meg giggled.

Soon the appetizer soon came and the mustached waiter came toward their table and a great crash was heard. A groan on exasperation came from the corner of the room.

"For God's sake, Monsieur Whoppers, that's the fifth dish you've spilled! Did you break the swan china _again_?"

"S-sorry, Monsieur! Oh! Oh!" Monsieur Whoppers struggled to stand up but slipped on a block of cream cheese.

Meg and Christine were by now this time shaking with silent laughter.

"S-see? I t-t—told you!" Meg said through gasps a few seconds later.

"That was so funny! But he's not hurt, is he?" Christine asked after a few gasps too.

"Of course not! He's all right. This isn't the first time this has happened!" Meg reminded.

Madame Giry soon came back (after helping Monsier Whoppers clean the wreckage) and seated herself next to Christine. Appetizer was quickly finished, followed by the main course then desert. Meg asked Christine to make a puppet with her napkin but after a glare from Madame Giry, she put her napkin back in her lap and folded her hands.

After that, it was time for bed. Meg informed Christine that she was to sleep in the same room as the girl ballet trainees even though she was much younger than them.

"Don't you feel a little strange sleeping with such older girls?" Christine asked.

"Well, a little but I have gotten used to it. Many of them think of me as their little sister." Meg said.

"Meg? How nice are the other girls?" Christine asked as they walked to the girl bed quarters.

"Most of them are very nice. But they can be a bit stiff to a newcomer, I've seen that,"

"Don't worry! You'll be with me through tomorrow's lesson. I'll introduce you but don't be too surprised if they don't talk to you much." Meg assured her as Christine's face wilted.

"That's all right. I don't want to call attention to myself, anyway." Christine smiled sheepishly and ended in a yawn.

"Oh, my. I think we should get to sleep before my mother comes looking for us. I'll walk you to my mother's dressing room. I think you'll know where to go from there." Meg said.

"That would nice of you, Meg. Thank you." Christine said.

They walked to Madame Giry's door.

"Well, this is where I leave you. Till tomorrow morning, of course." Meg said.

"Yes. Thank you, Meg. I hope we can be good friends!" Christine said.

Meg smiled. "I think we will, Christine." She began to walk away.

"Good night."

"Good night."

Christine walked into Madame Giry's dressing room. Madame Giry had not returned yet from the main hall. Christine walked into her own room. There was hardly any dust now. The maids must have cleaned it as Madame Giry had said.

She retrieved her nightgown from the bottom of a suitcase near the window. The nightgown still smelled of her old home. Tears began to well up in her eyes and she held the neatly folded nightgown to her chest and gazed up at the half crescent moon shining brightly in the Paris night sky.

"Oh, Papa…Did you come looking for me at the house by the sea? I am here, Papa. Oh, Papa. I am here and I am missing you. I…I miss you so much…"

Christine gasped. She had almost forgotten. In her deep sorrow, her brain still told her that she must light a candle for her father every night. Or else his spirit would be forgotten and swept away in this new place that she now resided in.

Christine changed into her nightgown and opened a small blue bag which contained five pearly white candles. She delved further into the bag and found a small box of matches.

Christine blinked. She had everything she needed to light a memorial…but where was she going to light? She then heard a sound coming from the next room. Madame Giry had returned. Christine walked into her room with candles and matches still in hand.

"Madame Giry…" She began.

Madame Giry turned to her. "Christine, dear, it is almost past eleven! You should be in bed. I can understand that you can't be asleep so soon but at least in bed!" She scolded.

"I…I know how late it is, Madame Giry, but I promised I would do something for…for my papa every night." Christine said timidly.

Madame Giry hurried towards her placed a hand on her shoulder.

"And what is that, my dear?" She asked softly.

"To light a candle for him. D-do you know where I can do this?"Christine asked.

Madame Giry gave Christine a long look. Christine couldn't read her expression but she didn't like the way Madame Giry's eyes held fear. As soon as Christine saw it, it vanished as soon as it had come.

"Yes, dear. I know exactly where you can do this. But I will take you there. Do you understand?" Madame Giry asked sharply.

Christine flinched. Why had Madame Giry's tone change so suddenly?

"Y-yes, Madame. But…maybe I shouldn't go down tonight?" Christine asked quietly.

"No, no. Don't be silly, dear. There is nothing that should prevent you from placing a memorial for your father. Come, dear."Madame Giry said and took Christine by the hand and led her down a long flight of stairs.

Soon they came to a cozy room with an image on an angel on a far window and ashtrays in the middle. Christine let go her hand out of Madame Giry's and gasped her eyes wide with awe.

"M-Madame Giry! It is so beautiful! And look!" Christine exclaimed and hurried over to the colored glass picture of an angel.

"There's water behind this painting!" She exclaimed.

Madame Giry walked over to Christine. "Yes. It is very beautiful. Very religious performers come to say Mass in this room. But late at night, it can be yours." She breathed.

"Oh, it can? Thank you, Madame Giry! Thank you!" Christine squealed and embraced Madame Giry.

Madame Giry chuckled. "You're quite welcome, dear,"

She then placed her hands on Christine's shoulders. "Now I must ask you a question. I cannot promise how often I will be able to take you down here each night. Must you always come?" Her voice grew in quiet seriousness.

Christine stared at Madame Giry in confusion. "But of course, Madame Giry. Otherwise my father will not make it to heaven. And…"

"I want it to be so that he's always with me. I do not want to forget about him." Christine said quietly.

Madame Giry straightened up. "You never will Christine. He is always here." She took Christine's small hand and placed it on the right side of her chest.

"In my heart…" Christine murmured.

Madame Giry smiled. "Yes, dear. Always, always, always there. Now, it is getting late dear. I will stand in the doorway while you light. I assume your father taught you how to light a match?" She asked.

"Yes. Ever since I was old enough to talk, Papa taught me how to make a fire for our boat when we went on trips."Christine explained.

"That was very wise of him. He did –"

"Madame Giry…? Actually, would it be all right if I could light by myself? I would like to speak to my Papa alone." Christine said with emotion overtaking her voice.

Christine saw the fear in Madame Giry's eyes return and she closed them. She didn't open them for a short while.

"All right, dear. Do you see that large staircase? That is the one we came down from. If you follow it and turn left, you will be in my dressing room again. I shall leave the door open for you. When you are finished, come straight up." She spoke firmly.

"Yes, Madame Giry. I'll do that." Christine nodded.

Madame Giry walked to the doorway.

"Be careful, dear. Good night." She said.

"I will. Good night, Madame Giry. And thank you." Christine said.

"You're welcome, dear. Good night."And she walked out.

Christine didn't turn around until she heard Madame Giry's footsteps recede off the staircase and onto the landing above her where her room was.

Christine sighed and looked around her.

"This place is indeed beautiful."She whispered and walked over to the ashtray.

The ashtray held not one, but five candle holders – enough for the rest of the week.

Christine took the match in her small fingers and slid it sharply across the rough brown surface. In an instant, a small flame appeared. She put the flame on the small white wick of the pearly candle, blew out the match and placed it in the ashtray. Then put the candle, with very gentle care, into one of the holders.

Christine thought back to a time when her father was teaching her to say a prayer. She smiled when she remembered when she was only two summers that she thought that the prayer sign was begging for candy. But that was all over now.

She joined her hands together and before closing her eyes, she let herself bathe in the glowing gold light. With its warmth, she felt like her father was near. At least, nearer than before.

"Oh, Papa. I light this candle for you in honor of your memory. I hope God will take your soul and place it among the angels. Including the angel you…you promised me. I miss you, Papa. I miss you."

She began to sing softly. It was nearing Christmastime, so why not sing a Christmas song?

"Noche de paz, noche de amor,

[Night of peace, night of love,]

Todo duerme en derredor.

[Everyone is sleeping all around.]

Entre sus astros que esparcen su luz

[The stars spread their light,]

Bella anunciando al niñito Jesú

[Beautifully announcing the baby Jesus.]

Noche de paz, noche de amor,

[Night of peace, night of love,]

Todo duerme en derredor.

[Everyone is sleeping all around.]

Sólo velan en la oscuridad

[The only ones watching in the darkness]

Los pastores que en el campo están

[Are the shepherds in the field]

Y la estrella de Belén

[And the star of Bethlehem,]

Y la estrella de Belén.

[And the star of Bethlehem,]

[Night of peace, night of love,]

Todo duerme en derredor.

[Everyone is sleeping all around.]

Sólo velan en la oscuridad

[The only ones watching in the darkness]

Los pastores –"

[Are the –"

"That is beautifully sung, child."


	3. Entering the Kingdom of Dreams

Chapter 3 (redoing chapter 2 a little)

Todo duerme en derredor.

[Everyone is sleeping all around.]

Sólo velan en la oscuridad

[The only ones watching in the darkness]

Los pastores …"

[Are the…"

Christine's voice caught and dropped to a whisper as a sob shook her body. Finally at long last, she had privacy and could let out all the tears that threatened to leak out her eyes at certain moments. Tears splashed onto her nightgown and her knees threatened to give way from under her.

She closed her eyes and whispered.

"Papa. Papa. Papa. You can't be gone. You can't be gone."

But no matter how many times she called for him, his presence was never too close. So she desired to call upon the one….the one that was promised to her. Her drenched eyes traveled to the painting of the angel. The painting looked so patient as if it waited to be of assistance.

She pressed her small fingers more firmly against each other and took a deep breath.

"Angel of Music…wherever you are…I ask that you help me know that my Papa is near. Please, Angel."

No response. The only sound that was heard was the faint rippling of water on the other side of the painting.

Maybe she hadn't spoken loud enough. She did speak in a whisper, after all. She pressed her fingers together again.

"Angel of Music…I wanted you to know that besides for Madame Giry and Meg, I'm alone. This place is so new and strange. I want to know there's something from home here. I know maybe I will make more friends tomorrow, but for tonight…Could you appear…to me?" She spoke in a quiet voice.

No response again. Christine waited. As she waited, she yawned.

"_Weary child, I am here." _

Christine ever so slowly picked up her head from her hands. She began to tremble.

"Angel?" She asked in a voice barely audible.

"_Yes, Christine. It is I. I am your Angel of Music." _

_The voice echoed and rang off the walls._

"Did…did my Papa send you?" She asked in a whisper.

The silence only lasted for a few seconds.

"_Yes, he did." _

"Can he see me?"She asked in a low voice.

"_Yes, he can, child." _

The corners of Christine's mouth curved. Her entire body shook. She didn't know what to say or do first.

Now this time, the Angel spoke before she did.

"_Child, your singing sounds chambers of birdsong. Won't you sing a tune again?" _

Christine's eyes widened.

"Would it please my Papa?" She asked warily and timidly.

"_Yes. He is watching from the moon tonight." _

"I…I suppose I will sing if Papa is watching," She said.

She chose a song that was in her blood language.

"Angel of Music, I…I want to thank you for appearing to me tonight. So…so maybe I can sing you the song I was learning with Papa before…he…went to God. But I only know a little." She said.

"_That is just fine and would be wonderful to hear. Please commence the beauty of your voice, dear child." _

Christine scanned the dark deep ceiling with her eyes before taking a deep breath. She didn't see anything. Was the Angel of Music was right behind her? Or in front of her?

She gulped and began:

"Et les yeux levés vers le ciel

[And eyes lift toward the sky]

À genoux, les petits enfants

[On their knees, small children]

Avant de fermer les paupières

[Before closing their eyes]

Font une dernière prière.

[Say a last prayer]

Petit papa Noël

[Little Father Christmas]

Quand tu descendras du ciel

[When you come down from the sky]

Avec des jouets par milliers

[With thousands of toys]

N'oublie pas mon petit soulier.

[Don't forget my little stocking]

Mais avant de partir

[But before you leave]

Il faudra bien te couvrir

[You should dress well]

Dehors tu vas avoir si froid

[Outside you will be so cold]

C'est un peu à cause de moi.

[And it's kind of my fault]

Il me tarde que le jour se lève

[I can't wait for the sunrise]

Pour voir si tu m'as apporté

[To see if you brought me]

Tous les beaux joujoux que je vois en rêve

[All the lovely toys that I see in my dreams] "

Christine opened her eyes and looked up at the dark ceiling. She heard nothing.

"Angel?" She asked quietly.

At last, the Angel spoke.

"_Dearest child, you possess exquisite beauty. Words cannot describe how wonderful you just sang. However, I must say that your key was a little off. May I correct you?"_

"Oh…yes, of course." She said.

"_At the chorus, lower your voice a little." _

"Oh. All right,"

She sang the chorus, with some effort, at a lower key.

"_Just perfect."_

Christine glowed in the Angel's praise. Then, there were a few thumps on the staircase above her.

"Christine? Christine, are you all right down there?"

It was Madame Giry.

"Ye-yes, Madame!" She called up.

"I am glad you are," Madame Giry's voice held strange relief.

"Now, I have to inform you, child, that it's one o'clock in the morning. You have ballet training in after breakfast. Would you be so kind as if to come to bed?" Madame Giry called down to her and her voice was edged with controlled annoyance.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry, Madame! I didn't realize what time it was!" She gasped.

"That is all right, dear. I implore you to come up as soon as you're ready. Otherwise I'll have to be forced to fetch you myself." She said firmly.

"That won't be necessary, Madame Giry. I'll be up soon." Christine said quietly.

"Make sure you do." Madame Giry said and walked back to her room.

As soon as she heard Madame Giry's footsteps recede, she looked up at the dark ceiling.

"I have to leave now." She whispered.

"_I am aware, child. You need your rest. Ballet is a very wonderful art. It is filled with such grace and beauty. I would not have kept you long, anyhow." _

Christine smiled.

"Thank you, Angel. I'm very happy to know you care about me. You are the closest I will ever get to Papa. Please stay with me forever."

She heard a small silence. Then the Angel spoke.

"_I do care about you; child and I would not commit such a sacrilege as to leave you in this time of darkness for you or any other time. Your father promised me to you and I will not deny his wishes." _

Christine felt tears cover her eyes again. This time, tears of gratitude and she blushed.

"Thank you…" She whispered.

Feeling much protected, Christine saw the staircase that she and Madame Giry had climbed down from by torchlight. With one last look at her private memorial, she headed to the staircase.

Her small hands gripped the railing and she trembled. This was a very new place even if her Angel was with her. It was dark and large. Hallways surrounded every corner. But she remembered Madame Giry's words about following the staircase into her dressing room. Soon she was there. After much exposure to the heat of candlelight, Madame Giry's room and her room seemed awfully cold. She shivered and noticed Madame Giry's back facing towards her. Madame Giry was sleeping.

After smiling at her hunched figure in the gloom, Christine went to her own bed and burrowed underneath the covers. She put her arm close to her face and snuggled into her sleeve. She sighed and closed her eyes.

But sleep did claim her. The aroma of her old home was all around her because of the unpacked clothes which now lay on tables and bureaus. She squeezed her eyes tight and willed sleep to come.

"It will all be better in the day. It will all be better in the day." She whispered into her pillow feverishly.

But still Papa's mind flashed behind her tightly closed eyes.

"_Is something the matter, child?"_

Christine gasped. It was the Angel of Music. She knew the Angel would be watching but she didn't know the Angel would speak. Especially with Madame Giry so close.

"_She cannot hear me, child."_ The Angel said as if reading her thoughts.

Christine fearfully looked over to the room where Madame Giry slept soundly and then back to her pillow.

"Oh…Angel…I…I can't sleep." She whispered.

"_Why is that?"_

"I'm thinking of Papa."_She murmured. His warm brown eyes flashed in her memory and she whimpered._

"_I am aware, child, but you must rest now. One of the finest arts lies at your fingertips in just a few hours time. It would displease me greatly if you were to drop off to slumber in the middle of a lesson."_

"I know but…I can't sleep. Even when I try, I can't."

_There was no reply but then, the Angel spoke._

"_I will sing you to the kingdom of dreams. Just close your eyes; and let my voice wrap around your conscious as I open the door to that great kingdom."_

Christine gulped and hugged her arm closer to her face.

"_Do not fear, child. Abandon all thought but the one of my voice."_

Christine, with a shuddering sigh, obeyed and closed her eyes.

"Heaven's gift to me just the way you are,  
A new aged child from a distant star.  
It feels so good just to be  
So close to your love. You are heaven's gift to me.

You are so sweet and pure just the way you are.  
My precious jewel and rising star.  
There's so much in life for you to see.  
And so much to be. You are Heaven's gift to me.

La la la la la la, la la la la la,  
La la la la la la la, la la la la la la la,  
La la la la la, la la la la,  
La la la la la, la la la la la la la….."

The Angel's voice was an echoing whisper with an entrancing tune that surrounded her and went from one ear to the other. She felt as peaceful as she had been when Papa came to tuck her in to bed…but this feeling as higher. She felt closer to Papa even more than when she lit the candle downstairs. Her mind slowly edged off into sleep.

The Angel continued.

"_Heaven's gift to me just the way you are,  
A new aged child always in my heart.  
There's so much in life for you to be,  
And so much to see. You are heaven's gift to me._

La la la la la la, la la la la la,  
La la la la la, la la la la la,  
La la la la la la, la la la la la,  
La la la la la, la la la la la la la."

She barley heard the Angel's voice now. Her breathing got deeper.

"_La la la la la la, la la la la la,  
La la la la la la la, la la la la la la,  
There's so much in life for you to see,  
And so much to be. You are heaven's gift to me_"

"_You are forever under my wing, sweet songbird. The night holds many wonders but sleep has claimed you. Art will be yours in the day. Good night."_

_____________________________________________________________________________

^No Copyright Infringment Intended. Wiccan Lullaby by Gypsy.

I changed a lyric to match the story. I chose this song because, for those of you that read Phantom by Susan Kay, Erik spent a lot of time with the Gypsies and in the movie it shows it, too. He must have learned something from their culture even while being abused.


End file.
